Hear Me Roar
by krxstina
Summary: New York - the Roaring 20's era and Flik finds himself wandering around the gray streets of the city for some food and shelter. When he falls in love with Odessa Silverberg, his eyes are open to a new world he never thought would've existed. (1920s AU - contains racism/sexism/slurs)


New York was everything Flik thought it'd be. Loud, dirty – smell of pollution and the yelling of drunken people in two in the afternoon. Everything was moving and nobody seemed like they could get enough of anything. He tried to maneuver himself through the onslaught of people walking by, rummaging through his pockets he pulled out some pocket change that could probably buy him at least some bread that could last him a week or so.

He rubbed his stomach. He hadn't had a proper meal in what seemed like months – that's what he missed back home, food. It wasn't enough to bring him back – he promised himself that he'd never return back there. Where the traditions would choke you like a poison and nobody in that place would ever know what lied beyond a mile away. Even the smoke in New York felt fresher.

Without watching where he was going, he felt a body run into his chest and they both fall to the ground with a thump! Flik groaned, rubbing his head. "Watch where you're going!" He exclaimed angrily.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry! I didn't see you there, sir!" The voice was awfully feminine.

He glanced up to the person he bumped into. She was - like a shining sun in the darkness. Her bright hair fell past her shoulders and her blue eyes stared down at him in worry. Blue eyes as clear as glass, something so pretty that he'd love to see life through those pupils. She wore a lovely red dress and Flik found himself blushing like some child.

"Are you okay?"

God – she was beautiful.

Stammering, he quickly got up (ignoring her hand) with a nod. He straightened his clothes, hoping that he didn't look like some stain on a white sheet. Anything would've looked dull compared to her, she was golden. Real gold. "Y-Yes, ah – thank you. My name is Flik." The more he stared, the more he realized how lovely her porcelain skin looked and the curve of her pink lips -

"…Goodbye."

Wait – what? And then she was gone, swept away in the crowd. Glancing around frantically, he was looking for that woman again. In the grey, he spotted a little orange head. "W-Wait!" Flik shouted and started pushing his way through the sea of people going the opposite way towards her.

"What's your name?"

Nothing.

"Hey – I mean, Excuse me! What is your name?"

She turned around with a smile like it was some funny secret only she knew about it.

"Odessa Silverberg."

* * *

It was the only two words that he remembered for the past week. Odessa Silverberg – he would sit for hours, wondering – how he could meet her again. He'd do anything just to talk to her. His heart ached to see her smile. He told this to everybody but they never believed him, most replied with a roll of their eyes and others say, 'Most dolls are dumb doras – keep your nose out of it kid!' People talked real funny in New York. It was their lost.

It felt like he was sick. He couldn't sleep – only Odessa on his mind. She had this light that radiated off of her, drawing him like a moth to a flame. He wanted to know everything about her and what made her tick.

It was late and Flik was at a restaurant, drinking a glass of water. 'Course he'd leave before he ate anything much to the waiter's distaste. He left some coins anyhow. He found himself talking to this awful stoic looking man ("…Humphrey," he introduced quietly) about everything that has happened to him – leaving home, wanting to go somewhere that doesn't have the entire place being held up by the strings of old traditions, meeting Odessa Silverberg – he looked pretty disinterested in the entire topic up until that point.

"You know Odessa Silverberg?" It was the first time the man actually talked besides the occasional grunts throughout the conversation. He had a deep voice to match his entire appearance. The man was huge. Size of a house and quieter! He had a short, blond haircut and a chiseled face with cold eyes. Flik liked him just fine though – as long as he doesn't get in his way.

Flik stopped. "What? You know where she is? Where?!" He exclaimed, quickly standing up. "Tell me where she is!"

Humphrey was back to his impression of a wall.

Getting impatient, he shouted, "Oi! Answer me!"

A call from a waiter told him to shut it and sit down but Flik stood his ground, his blue eyes staring down his black beady ones with an electrifying gaze.

"…Promise me to not tell where she lives to anybody."

"Promise." Flik immediately answered. He meant it too, all he wants is for her to be safe and happy. _And with him._ "I'll do anything for her."

Humphrey didn't seem like he needed any more reassuring. He dug into his pockets and pulled out a small piece of paper with an address on it. Flik squinted. "What's this?"

"You'll find her there." He glanced up and for a rather large man, he disappeared real fast.

It took a week to find this place. He didn't show the address to anybody as promised, but he's only been in New York for almost a month. He only knew the city as well as the pictures on postcards and in newspapers. When he finally reached it, he double-checked to make sure it was the right place.

It was a dingy alley, an alley that looked like all the rest except it was a block down from this boxing place and had a red door that he had to squint to recognize. Odessa didn't live here, did she?

He let out a breath. Flik wasn't afraid. He always had a gun on him at all times and if he were ever jumped by those gangs – he wasn't afraid to shoot. If his father ever taught him something, it was how to protect himself. It was the only thing he taught him that did him any good.

Flik walked down the alley way, hand on his pistol, just waiting for something – anything to attack him. Maybe this was all a trap and maybe Humphrey didn't actually know Odessa at all, he thought to himself. Flik shook his head. No, have faith in him. Even if he only knew the man for a short hour, he was a good person that much Flik knew.

He stared at the door in front of him. All or nothing. He thought of her beautiful red hair and smile. He opened it.

He was greeted by the sound of jazz music and people chatting about all the odd things of life. It mingled with the sounds of clinking glass. Smoke was in the air along with something else that he couldn't quite place. Descending down the stairs, he saw that it was some underground organization. Women and men were smoking together, and he felt his cheeks blush with embarrassment by seeing how short some of the women's dresses were. Everything was so colourful it nearly blinded him, all to use to the grey streets of New York. Who knew it hid something like this if you looked a little bit deeper.

He heard whispers from ladies and was received pointed fingers, something Flik had learned to ignore and takes with a grain of salt. He wasn't interested in flirting with women, if he wanted a relationship – he wanted something real.

"Oi, you lost?"

He turned around and saw a man grinning at him behind the bar. He had muscles that could probably break Flik's neck like a twig if he wanted but his smile suggested friendliness. He had a dark mane to the nape of his neck and kicked out in messy tufts and tangles. Something was different about him…

"Where's Odessa? I need to see her!" Flik exclaimed immediately.

"Yeah, yeah, so does every other lad. Sit down, have a drink – it's on me! Ain't no gin mill finer than this one in all of New York." The man expertly took a bottle of alcohol from one of the shelves and poured Flik a glass like he's been doing his whole life. He blinked as he caught the sliding glass.

"Isn't drinking…illegal?" He asked, staring at the frothing beer.

The man chuckled like the law was funny to him. "Everything is illegal nowadays. Don't worry, you're safe here. No joint is as secretive as this – Odessa runs the entire operation, you won't get caught."

His eyes widened. Odessa…? That woman in the streets…this was her whole idea?

"Heh, c'mon – it's not every day that I pay for a stranger's drink. Try it!" The bartender insisted with a smile.

Flik drank before when he was younger, just out of pure rebellion to spite his parents but that was the cheap stuff. He brought the cup to his lips and sipped. It was unbelievably bitter and let a weird aftertaste in his mouth. He set down the drink and wiped his lips.

The man burst into laughter. "Yeah, it's not for everybody. It's an acquired taste, don't worry – you'll get used to it."

Flik shook his head with a smirk. "I don't think I want to get used to the taste of piss." That statement made the man laugh harder. It was hard not to be happy around this man. It was like his joy was contagious. The way his eyes crinkled at the sides and his chest shook with laughter…he realized what was so different about him.

"You…you're one of them." Japanese, Chinese, yellow-faced – somebody that shouldn't be working here, somebody that shouldn't be near Odessa at all. Flik tossed out the drink that the man just prepared for him with a look of disgust. "You're no better than a spade." He spat.

The man stopped polishing his glass. He narrowed his eyes and there was a look in his eye – something that Flik couldn't place but made him shift in his seat. Setting the cup down, he said, "Get out."

"What?"

"Get out of my bar right now before somebody gets hurt." He repeated with a scary amount of calmness.

Flik stood up. "I'm not leaving until I meet Odessa. We need to talk."

"She's not talking to somebody like you." The bartender insisted. "Scum like you aren't allowed to talk to people like her. I'm surprised she even would even want to be in your presence."

Flik gritted his teeth, clenching his fists to prevent himself from hitting the man in front of him. "Why you – I'm sure she'd prefer me over some yellow trash!" He shouted angrily. "You don't belong here! And you never will!"

It was dead silent. The music has stopped along with anybody else who's been dancing or chatting along to the beat. All eyes were on the two men. He stared back at the crowd with a challenged gaze and saw that everybody was looking at Flik with open mouths.

Before he could say anything though, he felt something connect with his face and everything went to black.

* * *

"…You didn't have to knock him out, Viktor!"

Even in darkness, he could recognize her voice. It was like ringing bells and it felt so nice to hear it again. What happened? Something ached but he was in too much pain to know where. He was about to open his eyes when he heard a gruff voice:

"He deserved it to be fair."

"Viktor!"

"Ow, ow, ow – sorry, I take it back – I take it back, stop pulling my ear! …No wonder you're single. OW! Sorry, sorry. I mean it though Odessa, just because you think he's easy on the eyes doesn't make it all keen."

Odessa was silent. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, right." You could practically taste the sarcasm in Viktor's voice. Flik sensed there was some eye rolling too. "This was the guy you were talking about with the dreaaamy blue eyes isn't it?"

"…"

"I rest my case."

Flik tried not to be giddy about the fact that Odessa found his eyes dreamy.

"…Look, Viktor, he…he didn't mean it. Flik is a nice person. He wouldn't hurt a hair on anybody's head on purpose."

"A _blonde_ hair anyway."

"Viktor-"

"Anybody else who's not a pretty white rich female is fair game apparently."

"He doesn't know I'm rich! And – he just doesn't know any better…like everybody else. He just – needs to be taught what's right and what's wrong. It's all he's known his whole life."

"Yeah, cause everybody is taught that anybody else who isn't white don't belong in America don't they? We should stick with our own kind and not infect their pretty white girls with our coloured skin. Can't a guy get a drink without being sneered at or threatened? 'Ruining the country', my ass. This country has been doomed from the start. My gut's got a bad feeling about this and it's never wrong - I don't trust him. Nothing you'll say will change that."

"It's because you don't know him like I do! How do you know if you never give him the chance – "

"Know him? C'mon, you bumped into on the street the other day and you're actin' like you have been pals since you've been walkin'. Listen Odessa – people like you, you get chances all the time. Us? People like me? Any door of opportunity has been slammed in our face – for something we can't control. You can't just keep being your kind ol' self for people that don't deserve kindness. Heck, maybe it'll do him good – show him how it feels to not be given what he wants."

Suddenly – the ache didn't hurt anymore.

"…I'm sorry Viktor. You're one of the nicest people I've ever met. You don't deserve any of the hate you get. White or not."

He sighed. "Odessa. Odessa. Look at me. I – I'm sorry, don't go crying on me you know it's not your fault. So don't go apologizing like it is. I won't be a wet blanket no more if you smile for me. Do you think pretty boy would want to kiss a puffy-eyed face?"

"Ugh. You're unbelievable."

"Atta girl. Listen, I gotta run for now but I'll be right back. Promise."

"Okay. Be careful out there."

"I'm wounded! Do you think I'm any less than that? Heh - see ya, doll."

Then there was the sound of a door slamming and retreating footsteps followed with a cheerful whistle. Flik waited until there was just silence before he decided to open his eyes. The light was blinding and he saw Odessa who was sitting on a chair beside him.

She smiled. "You're awake. We were all worried about you."

He sat up groggily, examining his surroundings. He was on a bed in a small room. He could hear people chatting loudly outside, it seems like his injury didn't stop the party. There was not much, a shelf with some books on it in the corner and a table.

"Here. Drink this; it'll help with the headache." Odessa insisted, holding a cup of water to his lips. He sipped it thankfully until the glass was empty. She put down the glass and a silence fell over them.

He dreamed of this; dreamed of seeing her beautiful face and telling her how he'd cross the ocean if it'd make her happy – but after Viktor's words, there was this odd metallic taste in his mouth.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for any of this to happen." The woman said, staring down at her lap. "I feel like it's my entire fault."

"For what?" Flik managed to say. "It's not your fault, Odessa. It's that bartender's fault – "Her head shot up with a look that made his voice disappear back into his stomach.

"I need to tell you something, Flik." He nodded. "New York…isn't as good as people make it out to be. Sure, it's improving; women are able to vote…but people face injustice each day of their lives. Viktor, the bartender – he's one of those people. He's faced so much and, I can't even imagine what kind of pain he's been through. He's working with me too – I want to live in a city where everybody is equal no matter what skin or gender they are."

Flik's eyes widened but he didn't say anything. He wasn't sure if he anybody could respond properly to what she just said. Odessa took this as a signal to continue.

"I am running this organization – The Liberation Army. My goal is to create a society free from gender roles. I don't want anybody to feel the need to conform to the ideas of what makes a perfect woman or a perfect man. I don't want anybody to feel inferior or…irrelevant just because they aren't white." Her blue eyes were the colour of a stormy sea, fierce and strong that was dangerous if you would ever to challenge it. "I come from a long line of business men and women, The Silverbergs. I am the face of the company I suppose you'd call it…so I try to remain as innocent as possible."

She grabbed his hand and he was sure that his heart had stopped. "Flik, I trust you. Please do not tell anybody of this – for the sake of the Liberation Army, you must not tell anybody about who I truly am. I want you to help me achieve this dream of mine. We need all the support we can get. If you don't want to, that's fine."

Flik stared. Odessa Silverberg…leader of the Liberation Army and part of a rich business company. What a burden, he couldn't imagine how much responsibility she must have…but at that moment, Flik wanted nothing more than to be with her. By Odessa, the woman he bumped into the streets – not Odessa, the leader of a rebellious organization or Odessa the successor of the Silverberg Company. That was the woman he fell in love with and he would always follow because he knew that she could conquer anything in the world. He only wishes to be by her side while she does it.

And with those blue eyes looking up at him, how could he say no?

He took her hand in both of his and leaned close so that they were almost touching foreheads: "You're absolutely amazing, you know that? You're one of the noblest people I've ever met in my entire life. I want to help you in any way I can – you're free to use me however you want if it'll help you."

"Flik..." A smile raised her upper lip and her blue eyes were tearing up like morning mist. It was the most beautiful sight he's ever seen. "…Thank you."

They stayed like that for a long time, breaths mingling and enjoying each other's mere presence. It must've been too intimate for Odessa's liking, once she realized what they were doing – she jumped back with a scarlet blush. Flik too, realized he was tinting pink.

She coughed. "A-Ah…well then…."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "R-Right…"

It was back to silence but the woman broke it soon again with a quiet murmur. "Viktor…he was really hurt when he heard you say such things." She was back to staring at her lap.

_Us? People like me? Any door of opportunity has been slammed in our face – for something we can't control. _Flik suddenly felt very cold.

"I'm sorry Odessa," and he wasn't just apologizing to make her happy. He meant it. "I – I was just…angry."

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to Viktor. He's the one you hurt, not me." The way she said it though made it feel like Flik took a knife and stabbed it straight through her heart. "He's a nice guy…Viktor. He's just been through so much…not being white, trying to support his mother while he was only nineteen – it's like the entire world is up against him. He's really important to me; I wouldn't know what I'd do without him."

He felt a twinge of jealousy in his heart but he forced himself to push it down. Would he ever talk about him that way he wonders? "Was he the one who knocked me out?" Well he already knew the answer to that question.

"You aggravated him." Odessa said simply. "Viktor wouldn't hurt anybody unless you get on his bad side. Besides, it was really offensive – what you said to him. You don't just, call people that Flik."

He put a hand to his forehead as if he could feel the headache coming back to him again. "I won't do it again." _No promises on calling him any other names though…_

"He'll forgive you." The red-head answered to a question Flik never asked. It seemed like she was talking mostly to herself at this point. "He's just that kind of person."

"You seem to know a lot about him…" The man noted casually.

She shrugged, tucking a loose red strand behind her ear. "We're close." Her eyes were distant as if she was remembering a fond, intimate memory between the two of them.

Flik bit his lip, a sudden ache forming in his chest. "Do you love him?" The words tumbled out of his mouth and he stared when there were finally out.

Odessa's eyes widened, her pink lips forming a small 'o'. God, she was looking at him as if he lost his mind. He looked away quickly, his face burning in embarrassment.

"What are you talking about, Flik?" She finally asked.

"I-I-It's…Never mind!" He shouted. "Ignore what I just said, okay?!"

"You don't need to yell Flik." Her tone was mild. "It's just – well…" He was expecting some sort of wise explanation but all she did was let out a small giggle.

His head spun around to see her trying to hold in her laughter, her hair falling around her face with a grin. It was cute, almost child-like.

"W-What?" He huffed.

"Viktor and I – oh, you didn't really think I'd love him did you? Well – I do but not in the way you think!" Odessa smiled. "I mean, I have my eyes on somebody else anyway…"

"…Oh," was all Flik said. Mother always told him that his jealousy would get the worst of him. He'd throw a fit when he was a baby if his mother touched anybody else but him fondly. Old habits die hard he supposed.

It was quiet again. He didn't mind though, even if she won't tell him of who she loved – Flik would definitely conquer her heart in the end.

His eyes glinted mischievously and he hummed. "Are his eyes dreamier than mine~?"

"EH?!" She screamed, jumping in her seat. "I-I-I-y-you heard that?!"

He shrugged, smiling. "Maybe…."

"How much did you hear of that conversation?! How long were you awake?!" She stood up from her chair – fists curled at her sides and her face was a bright scarlet.

Flik shrugged again. "Long enough."

Odessa gaped. Her usual composed self now gone, replaced with a stuttering red-faced woman. It wasn't the worst change. "Y-You…I…I can't believe you eavesdropped! You were supposed to be unconscious!"

"I suppose I was. My bad."

"FLIK!"

"Men don't like women who yell." He crossed his arms, matter-of-factly. "I don't mind that much, that shade goes rather well with your dress." Part of him was enjoying teasing the woman and he'd never to lie to her, the red complexion rather does go rather well with her outfit.

"Women don't like men who pretend to be unconscious in order to pry on her conversations!" Odessa said, copying his action and turning her head to face the opposite wall.

"I don't quite remember women starting illegal organizations in order to fight against the government. You're very different from other women." Flik argued.

"…I suppose I am."

Time stopped – only the two of them were in front of each other. She was holding onto his shoulders as Flik tried to balance the both of them on the bed. Her lips were soft and she tasted of cherries and everything sweet to the world. His fingers finding her orange mane, playing with the strands and letting it fall over them like a curtain. His head was spinning and he wanted more of her, drunk on her smell and her soft skin under his roaming hands.

* * *

Flik felt like the luckiest man in the world. Nothing could've gotten better – his heart always felt light and he was living in paradise every single second they touched hands or kissed. Odessa was a very busy woman, often having to be with her brother and also attend to all the people in the Liberation Army.

The Liberation Army was always bustling; people dancing, drinking, smoking or just plain living. Women were treated as equals which was something that Flik had hard time adjusting to. They also have this vocabulary filled with slang that he just didn't understand. These women were called flappers, apparently. Odessa seemed fine with their lifestyle but never engaged in it herself. She was very modest. It seemed like it was a home for many who had no place to go. Flik met Sanchez who seemed to be an old employee of the current mayor of New York, Barbarossa. He was quiet most of the time, drinking wine with Humphrey usually. He wasn't the worst.

Flik apologized to Viktor, but it seemed that they had this raw tension between the two of them whenever they talked. He didn't bother to try to make amends – if Viktor refused to treat him decently, why should he? He still doesn't understand how Odessa could stand being around that guy.

Odessa was about to set off again, contacting with another underground organization ran by a black woman. They were to discuss about some matters – although it was quite far off on the outskirts of New York, straying to Brooklyn. Flik narrowed his eyes when he heard that she were to go alone.

"Odessa can take care of herself." Humphrey reassured him.

He shot a cold look towards the man. "That's not good enough!" And ignoring his cry of protest, he quickly tried to catch up with the woman who was almost out the door. It took quite a while, trying to navigate through the sea of bodies.

"Odessa, wait – "

She raised an eyebrow. Every time he looked at her, it was like waking up to a new day. Bright and beautiful, wishing that it'll last forever.

He fumbled through his back pocket and pulled out a pistol. It was a simple tool but dangerous nonetheless. They were easy to access in a dangerous city like New York and he was surprised that Odessa doesn't have one, given her dangerous position as the leader of an illegal organization.

"Oh, Flik – this is not necessary-"

"It's a gift from me. I…I want you to be safe. When I can't be with you, this gun…it'll protect you." He insisted, placing the weapon in her hands.

Odessa turned it carefully in her fingers and examined the finer details. "F L I K…it has your name carved into it. Just like yours."

He nodded. After that night, he had carved her name into his gun - so that she'd be with him, no matter where he'd go. "Be safe."

"I always am." She said. The woman was about to head out the door, the sounds of cars and traffic resounding in his ears as the light filtered through the tiny entryway. "Oh and Flik?"

"Yes?"

She pecked him on the forehead. Chaste and sweet. A promise for more later. "I will be back soon. In the meantime – please try to get along with Viktor. I don't want repeated events to happen."

"He started it…." Flik grumbled under his breath.

She giggled. "Goodbye, Flik."

"Goodbye, Odessa." She closed the door and he was left alone at the entrance, standing there before slowly walking away.

"You don't look very well, Flik." Sanchez noted with worry. "Do you want some tea?"

"Really? I think it's a vast improvement on what he usually looks like." Viktor commented with a smile behind the bar counter.

Flik glared. "Oh really? I think I look a lot better than you do on any other day."

"That's not very neighborly of you, Flik." He drawled out, pouring some wine for a woman who was holding her small glass out.

"I have no intention to be neighborly to the likes of you."

"Ouch. That hurt."

Sanchez looked very uncomfortable and wanting to disappear into the ground.

Flik didn't say anything, not giving Viktor the luxury of an answer. He occupied himself by staring at the mix of people who were chatting away. Never has he seen such equality in his entire life nor conversation without any judging looks. It was refreshing.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Viktor swing his legs over the counter and start his way towards the door. The man raised his eyebrows.

"Hey, where you going?" He asked, straightening in his seat.

"What does it matter to you?" The taller man scoffed.

"You're leaving the bar alone?"

He gestured towards a man who seemed to have already taken Viktor's place, preparing drinks silently. "My shift's done. Don't worry pretty boy, I'll be back – don't miss me too much."

Flik was about to shout something along the lines of, "Good riddance!" but then she thought of Odessa's words earlier. _In the meantime – please try to get along with Viktor. _Even if most of the time he'd rather strangle him dead than be sitting beside him, he had to at least try. For her.

"W-Wait!" He exclaimed, quickly jogging up to him. He placed a hand on Viktor's broad shoulder. "I'm coming too."

The man stared at Flik with the look that basically spoke for itself. His face broke into a lopsided grin. "Fine, fine – don't get too attached, I know I'm very handsome but you're not my type."

"I'd rather eat my entire shoe."

"You'd be surprised the amount of people that would pay to see that."

Flik was tempted to find the nearest cliff and fling himself off it. They exited the door into the alley, immediately greeted with the sounds of cars rolling down the streets and newspaper boys shouting about the new headline and women with ten bags in each hand. Compared to the colourful interior of the Liberation Army, New York City was very gray and bland. Even the air was gray – filled with the smoke of the city and the people. Apparently it was what they called fresh air.

One of the things he missed back home. Air and food – not the most necessary things in the world.

The two continued down the streets, Flik having to walk a bit faster to catch up with Viktor's long strides. Not that he'd think that he could lose Viktor – that's an impossible task (to Flik's great disappointment).

Walking through the crowd, Flik couldn't help pick out women and men staring at the both of them. Whispering amongst each other with shocked expressions or gaped mouths, one look from Flik and they immediately silenced. He stared at Viktor to see if he noticed. He was looking straight ahead, his jaw set into a stubborn line.

They soon arrive at an old boxing club. Flik was awfully lousy at hand-to-hand combat but you'll be guaranteed dead if he had a pistol on him. He was a good shot and never missed. That wasn't pride speaking, it was just the truth. Viktor definitely looked like somebody who used to box in their spare time. Flik glanced at his companion's arms. He had a lot of spare time clearly.

It was a fairly large area with multiple boxing rings for practice and sand bags that hung from the ceiling. Men were furiously punching these bags with oversized mitts, perspiration dripping down their faces. And to his surprise, a few women were doing the same. Flik breathed and nearly gagged on the smell of dirty laundry and sweat.

Viktor exhaled. "Smells just like home."

Of course it does.

Viktor greeted some friends and exchanged a few stories regarding fire (which he'd rather live not knowing about) but Flik couldn't help notice the judging stares he received from the other boxers. "I hope he doesn't use one of the rental gloves – I don't want a foreigner contaminating our equipment with his dirty paws!" A sneer came from the corner of the room. Flik clenched his fists and wanted so dearly to punch the person in the face for saying such things about Viktor. Like they knew anything about him – talking as if he was some kind of creature...

"Yo, Flik – you okay? If I knew a room of half-naked men would get you all red and sweaty, I wouldn't have invited you." He grinned. Viktor too, had taken off his shirt and was wearing some boxing shorts with red gloves.

"It's…nothing." The man lied. He took a seat on one of the benches and decided to watch. It seemed as if Viktor knew what he was doing (which was rare since the man never knew what he was doing) and the pounding against the bag was loud against Flik's ears. He put a hand to his head, suddenly reminded of the time where he was punched in the face by Viktor. It was a miracle his face was still intact – it looks like Viktor didn't even hit him all that hard.

Boxing seemed like the esteemed sport around these parts – although it doesn't really interest Flik all that much. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a tall woman enter. She had curly locks that descended down her shoulders, imitating a sea of fire. She wore trousers – Odessa occasionally wore such fashion but they were knickers and bloomers, something much feminine than what this woman wore. It wasn't a fashion you wore in public unless you wanted bad attention from everybody around you. She wore something that a man would wear – a dress shirt paired with a tie and a grey jacket. The large hat with a red plume concealed her facial features.

Everybody's eyes were on this woman. Most appalled, some confused. He averted his gaze back to Viktor to see if he noticed but his friend seemed more preoccupied beating the bag senseless. She started towards him and sat beside him on the bench, although she didn't say anything. That was fine with him. So they sat in silence and the boxers seem to find things that were more important than the woman who came in. Flik thought about just leaving the club – what was the point of coming if he were just to watch Viktor punch an object for the next hour, they had barely said a word to each other since they left. Besides, he wants to be the first one to greet Odessa when she's back.

"Do you know him?"

He raised his eyebrows. The woman beside him smiled, her lips coated with a scarlet color. "Who?" She had this aura around her, speaking confidence and masculinity with a single sentence. If Odessa was the sun: beautiful, bright and shining with light every breath she took – this woman was a meteor. She was a burning comet ready to descend and her flames will lick up the buildings of New York, tearing this city down until its ashes were long buried under the ground.

"The man you're staring at."

"He's a…friend." Flik hesitantly answered. "I came with him."

"Are you not interested in boxing?" She asked. It was more of a question than an excuse.

"No. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." He said truthfully.

The woman laughed. "You must be very close to him."

Oh if only she knew. He couldn't resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Something like that…" Flik muttered under his breath.

"I'm glad that he found somewhere." The woman said. Although you couldn't see her eyes, the gaze she held towards Viktor was filled with affection.

His eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"He's an outsider. Not fully white, not fully Japanese. His father was killed for loving somebody outside his own, so he was left to protect her when he was nineteen." Her voice has gone down to a whisper, the woman's head tilted down in sadness. She was beautiful when she wasn't concealing herself – a strong jaw with light blue eyes that were accented with her thick eyebrows. The beauty didn't come from her features but the rawness of her flaws. "Even when he found love and thought he could be happy; a man killed both his lover and mother because if they exist, they are a sin. He'll always be a half-blood…a man made of two colours that cannot find love without betraying some part of him. That is why – "

Her next words were unheard when Viktor's sandbag exploded and ripped in half, the contents spilling all over the floor with a deafening sound. He was panting, his chest heaving from exhaustion. He wiped the sweat from his brow and took a drink from a nearby water bottle. Several people on stand-by went to quickly clean the mess up as he laughed, somewhat embarrassed about how much trouble he was causing them.

He glanced to Flik for the first time in that hour and his eyes widened when he saw the lady that sat beside him. Quickly, he walked over to where they were sitting with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Already got a lady-friend there, Flik? They just come to you like bees to honey, don't they?"

"Viktor…" The woman spoke.

He stopped. All amusement in his face had faded away into astonishment. Flik felt like he was in between what could've been a great storm that would sweep everything around it.

"…Ana?" He whispered. The way his voice immediately gentled and treated that name with such care was heart breaking. "Is that you?"

She smiled. "It's been awhile hasn't it? You don't look a day over."

Viktor's gaze softened and it was such an unguarded look that Flik almost had to look away. It was filled with such affection and vulnerability of a child that he never saw flicker on Viktor's face. Nor he'd imagined that the man was capable of such emotions. "Ah...you don't look too bad yourself."

The woman named Ana tucked a strand behind her ear. "You always had a way with words."

Flik wanted to ask how they knew each other and their relationship but it felt like such a tender moment that it'd be rude of him to say anything. What was going through their heads? The tension felt so thick if he were to move, it'd certainly break.

Viktor who seemed to sense Flik's discomfort, said, "Hey – I think Odessa might be back. She'd want to see you."

He nodded, glad for an excuse to leave. "Oh, uh…thanks Viktor. For - this."

His friend shrugged. "Thanks for comin'. Say hi for me."

"Sure," he replied off his shoulder as he began to walk towards the exit. Before he left, he casted one last look behind his shoulder to see Viktor and Ana sitting beside each other, engaged in conversation.

* * *

Odessa didn't come until a few hours later, talking about how the meeting went very well and how they might be thinking of stopping the frequent violent encounters along the streets. Flik nodded as she rambled on about this dangerous group of racists that has more than a thousand people on their side and how as time goes on, the number of people continue to grow.

She sighed. "It's absolutely horrible, those people. I've only seen them in newspapers but Humphrey says they're even worse in person."

Flik rubbed her back and made soothing noises, as she leaned into him. As well as being her lover, he was always her confidant – he was always willing to listen to her problems and comfort her in any way possible. The way she clenched her fists and vowed equality for all, it was completely mesmerizing. He had no doubt that it would happen someday and because of her.

"It's really dark outside…do you think Viktor's okay?"

Flik nodded. "Viktor can take care of himself."

"I know but…I still worry about him." Odessa mumbled, fiddling with the ends of her dress.

"The boxing club will close soon and he'd be force to get out. Probably doing something stupid, you know how he is." Flik insisted. He thought of the tall woman with curly hair and quickly shrugged it off.

She nodded and snuggled in closer to Flik, but it seems as if she really didn't believe his words.

The next few hours, Viktor was still not back. People were going to bed and the bar was closing. Odessa was pacing back and forth with a nervous look in her eyes.

Humphrey came through the doors and she glanced up. "Did you find him?" The blonde man shook his head and Odessa was now starting to bite her finger nails.

"Viktor, where are you?" She muttered to herself. Odessa was really worried; you could see it in her eyes. Flik stared at the door, waiting for the man to come bursting in with a smile. Nothing.

Her worry was contagious; even Flik's own chest was contracting due to the nerves. It was strange really…everything seemed so much quieter without Viktor; emptier like a giant statue has been destroyed and left a big open gap. His mind wandered back to this afternoon – Viktor who didn't belong anywhere. Viktor who was truly alone in the world and couldn't experience love without receiving backlash – couldn't walk in the streets without being sneered at by the world or live freely in the light with his family.

"_That is why we could never be together."_

Flik sprang out of his seat and started running towards the exit with Odessa yelling: "Flik? FLIK!"

It was a cold. People were still out even if it was the dead of the night, the gray city turning into shades of black and yellow lights. Traffic was even worse if that was possible, people shouting and the sound of heavy rain against the pavement filled Flik's ears.

His shirt clung onto his body and he pushed his dripping bangs out of his face. Frantically, he shifted his way through the crowds of people while shouting: "VIKTOR? VIKTOR WHERE ARE YOU?!" He was pushing against the people who yelled at him to keep his mouth shut and women who screamed to stop pushing them like that.

After half an hour in the streets, he leaned against the side of an ally panting. He could be anywhere in this goddamn city…but where? In the corner of his eye, he saw something shift. Flik immediately pulled out his gun until the figure groaned.

His eyes widened.

"VIKTOR!"

It hurt to even look at him. His usual white, untucked shirt was stained red and ripped open to reveal harsh claw marks across his chest. His face was swollen to the point of unrecognizability, his lip busted and painted with dark bruises. His hair was matted with blood. He paled. Viktor…he wasn't….

Flik quickly hauled the man over his shoulder, Viktor leaning on him like a large doll. He groaned. A wave of relief fell over him. At least he was still alive. _Barely._

"Don't worry Viktor, I got you…we're going to be okay. We're going to be okay." He reassured as he began to haul him through the streets. The cold rain pounded mercilessly on his back and water fell into Flik's blue eyes, as he tried to maneuver his way through the streets while Viktor hung onto him. He was moaning in pain and Flik kept reassuring him that things are okay, he's going to be fine and that whoever did this is going to pay. It didn't seem like Viktor could hear anything he said. The man only rasped out this sentence over and over:

"They were going to hurt Anabelle…Anabelle…please…don't leave me…"

It felt like forever but they reached the headquarters. Flik must've looked like a drenched rat but Viktor was much worse. Everybody was quiet but it was Odessa who broke the silence.

"Flik! Where have you – ", she put a hand to her mouth and her eyes went huge. "No…oh no, Viktor…what have they done to you…"

Humphrey and a few other men took Viktor off his shoulders and carried him to the nearest bed for treatment. Flik ran off to follow him but Sanchez quickly blocked his path.

"Get out of my way!" Flik shouted, wanting to push him out of the way.

"Viktor is severely hurt, he needs some peace and quiet. The best thing you can do is leave him alone." Sanchez insisted, holding his arms out.

_Leave him alone?! He's always by himself as it is! He needs me! _Flik wanted to say but instead he yelled, "Bullshit! It's all my fault – I should've, I should've…" _But what could you have done?_ A small voice asked him. _This is humanity. _Tears ran down his face, warm against his cheeks.

"Flik." It was Odessa.

"Odessa – I – ", he choked on his own voice, as he tried to wipe away the tears that were now falling rapidly. "Damn…" And she held him as he began to sob into the crook of her neck; cursing against society, cursing against fate, and cursing at his own self for not being strong enough.

"_He's an outsider."_

"_He's just been through so much…not being white, trying to support his mother while he was only nineteen – it's like the entire world is up against him."_

"_I hope he doesn't use one of the rental gloves – I don't want a foreigner contaminating our equipment with his dirty paws!"_

He sobbed until the images of Viktor in the alley, the meteor woman, Viktor's longing gaze, Anabelle's breaking voice, the sounds of the sneers from strangers, sandbag exploding, rain pouring, Odessa's soothing words - all disappeared into darkness.

* * *

Flik woke up to the sounds of shuffling across the floor. His eyes fluttered open to see Odessa adjusting her hat in the mirror. She glanced around and beamed at him. The woman never wore the flapper clothes with their short skirts and flashy jewelry but she still looked lovelier than ever with her modest dress.

"Morning, Flik."

He sat up and managed a small smile. "So early?"

She nodded. "My brother wants to meet me today." Odessa never told Flik of her family even if he's spilled out his heart of his own home far away from New York – did it hurt? Only a little. He didn't want to force her into anything that she'd rather keep buried away, even if that included a dead fiancé.

He let it slip one time, asking her: "How long was it until the wedding?" The woman looked like she was about to break into tears. He never mentioned it again, nothing was worse than an Odessa with the iris of her eyes looking like broken hearts.

Odessa lovingly caressed Flik's cheek before planting a soft kiss on the crown of his hair. "I will be back soon. Look after the headquarters for me with Viktor."

Flik thought of last night. Viktor with his face all bloody and bruised, him passing out in Odessa's arms – he hummed and just snuggled into Odessa' chest. His voice was muffled as he mumbled, "I love you."

"And I could never ask for anything more but your kindness, dear Flik." She whispered into his ear, affection interlaced in between her words. They stayed like that, in each other's arms but then she was out the door, leaving him alone in bed as if the clouds have covered the sun. Everything was dark and cold. He let out a sigh and sunk his head into the pillow.

After a few minutes of sulking, he decided to get out of bed. He could hear the sounds of the city waking up even after the sleepless night. New York was always alive and bustling even in the dead of the dark. Flik tried to maintain his appearance even if he wasn't the most arrogant type. Bed hair was a natural enemy, especially the way he sleeps it makes his blonde bangs stick up in the most obnoxious way. He managed to keep them down and pulled on some black trousers with a white dress shirt, tucked in.

He exited the room and saw that most were still asleep, save for Humphrey who was drinking by himself at the bar (although Flik never saw the man actually do anything except stand still and occasionally talk). Sanchez is usually with him but it seems like today the older man wasn't here.

He came across Viktor's room and put his hand on the knob, cold against his fingers. Flik stood there for a moment, contemplating whether or not to disturb him. Something in the back of his hand nagged him to go check on him anyway so he did.

Viktor was indeed asleep – but it seemed more of a peaceful slumber than his usual rowdy self. And you say that you cannot be rowdy when you're resting but Viktor seems to be always awake even when he's not. Flik found it a miracle that they haven't been found out yet from his loud snoring – it was a dead giveaway. This was the first time he's seen the man so quiet. It was eerie – Viktor wasn't meant to be silenced.

The medics seemed to have healed most of his injuries, all his cuts have been bandaged and the bruises have faded into a sickly yellow instead of the dark purple it was last night. Flik took a seat on a nearby chair, not wanting to disturb him. He idly wondered what he was dreaming of – or if he dreamed at all. Maybe warm darkness is the best.

He looked younger when he was asleep, almost softer like somebody had taken a piece of wood and sanded off the sides. When he was awake, Viktor's face was all rough edges and sharp lines that make up his thick eyebrows, jawline and deep cheekbones. Viktor was a mosaic - a bunch of broken pieces that have been glued together to create something beautiful; strong enough to stay but weak enough to fall apart if ever treated improperly again.

He began to stir awake. It was a very destructive thing with no grace at all. Viktor wasn't very graceful. It reminded Flik of a tower that has come falling down. An explosion that has disrupted the peace. With a loud yawn, the man stretched his back and sat up. Rubbing his eyes, he stared at Flik. It must've taken him a few moments to process that they were both in his room as he muttered, "Man I must've been real wasted if I slept with Flik of all people."

He glared. "Ha-ha, very funny."

"That's your comeback? Ha-ha?"

"Lose the hair and then we'll talk."

Viktor smiled. "That's more like it." Flik wanted to return the grin but couldn't find it in his heart as his eyes glanced over the gauze that has been wrapped around Viktor's body. The older man must've caught his gaze as he replied, "Thanks for saving me back there. Odessa told me you carried me on your back to the headquarters in the storm. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you. So…thanks."

He was still wincing as he struggled to sit up to talk to Flik but he nodded. "Everybody was scared for you. I was too. Odessa would be lost without you – she loves you." _And so does Anabelle._

Viktor laughed and scratched the back of his head. "Well I am pretty loveable."

Flik rolled his eyes but couldn't help his lips forming a curve as well. "Idiot bear."

He grinned, his eyes forming two curves and crinkling at the edges. It was very endearing and as much as he hated to admit it – Viktor _was_ pretty loveable.

The peace was disrupted by a loud series of knocking on Viktor's door before crashing in. It was Humphrey, his face contorted in astonishment and blood was smeared on his face in a vicious line. Flik immediately stood up and asked, "What happened, Humphrey?"

The man was staring at the two of them with wide-eyes and he stammered out: "T-They…they – "

"Spit it out, Humphrey!"

"Barbarossa is here. They found us. The Liberation Army is under attack."

Everybody was being chased out of their rooms, some still in their pajamas with their hands behind their back or beaten bloody into submission. Some even lay in their own pools of blood and Flik couldn't look at any of their corpses for long before feeling sick to death. It was utter chaos, people screaming and the sounds of gun blasts exploding in Flik's ears.

Flik was holding Viktor by his arm, pulling him along as the man stumbled after him in trousers and naked chest with only some bandages that needed replacing. Flik had his own pistol in his hand with the words: "ODESSA" etched into the side. The government men seemed to be coming from everywhere – almost as many as six of them came at Flik and Viktor. Flik only managed to fight them off by firing his bullets into their legs and arms, having them drop to the ground like bugs. He had learned to block out the groans of pain.

He was panting, sweat dripping down his face and blood on his hands that he couldn't tell was his or somebody else's. Viktor looked worse – his face a sickly white and he was just letting Flik tug him along like a child. He was too slow as one of the people tackled Viktor down.

Viktor despite his weak state still had enough energy to almost throw the man off his shoulder until four others held him down. They were whispering into his ear and fear flashed in Viktor's eyes as he struggled beneath them. One of them grabbed Viktor's neck, his hands wrapped around the column of flesh as Flik watched his friend squawking like an animal for air -

Unable to watch this anymore, the man pulled out his gun and aimed. One of the men looked up and started to laugh. "Shoot! Shoot, you traitor and you'll kill him too!" He had blonde hair and green eyes.

One shot.

Two shots.

Three shots.

Four.

He never missed.

They had families. They had a beautiful wife, maybe kids that they'd return to the end of the day. People who thought they were heroes. They were the privileged. They didn't know what it meant to claw against the ground for what they wanted. Now their open doors were shut forever – because of Flik.

He quickly ran to Viktor and hauled the man over his shoulder. He had passed out and it was the reassuring thumping in his chest that kept Flik moving. Flik went as fast as he could towards the exit. Once there, he realized that it has been boarded up with some wood and nails. At his feet, lay a black woman whose eyes were now glossed over by the hand of death. Flik tried to fight back the sob in his throat when he recognized that this was the same girl who would always order Liquid Courage at the bar. Her name was Abigail. She had a nice smile.

Flik pushed against the door with his whole body, his whole weight pummeling against the wood until it finally broke – Viktor and him tumbling out and falling into the alley. He laid there, his heart feeling as if it would explode from exhaustion and the blood was dripping down his arm and onto his fingers. Fatigue told him to shut his eyes and go to sleep but he knew that they'd get caught if they stayed any longer.

He forced himself up on shaking legs but the sight he saw almost made him fall again.

Odessa was on the ground, coated in blood with her hat thrown off somewhere and orange hair spooled out around her like a flower that has been plucked of its petals and thrown in a river. Red was stained on the walls – on the grey walls of New York. Sanchez sat beside her and at first sight you'd think he was mourning, but dear god – he was smiling. He was smiling.

Where was the sun?

All fatigue in his bones melted away into anger and he flung himself at Sanchez. Somebody was screaming – it sounded like a dying animal that has gone feral. An animal that has lost all hope and was crying out for somebody to end it all because god knows, it wasn't going to make it in this world. His blood-stained hands were shaking Sanchez by the collar, and his mouth was moving but he wasn't saying anything – in fact it was silent and muffled. Everything seemed distant – the Liberation Army getting attacked, Viktor being choked, there was nothing but pain in an empty spot in his chest.

Pain that bloomed inside him like a flower and spread across his whole body, it set his limbs on fire and burned open more wounds in his body. He was sure he was dying – but Flik knew that living was so much more painful than death.

He resurfaced from the water and he heard himself sobbing – tears that were streaking down his dirty face. Sanchez's voice came through finally: "H-He would've killed me, Flik! I had to do it – I had to kill her – I didn't want to die please – "

"I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" Flik shouted and slammed Sanchez against the brick wall of the alley.

"No – please, I'm so sorry Flik…I didn't mean to hurt you…" The man begged. "Odessa…she wouldn't…"

"Odessa is dead, because of you!" He screamed. Flik took out his gun and pushed the barrel against the man's throat, "And I'll kill you – see how it feels, to be betrayed! Soon after, you'll be begging me to be done with you! How it feels – to be in as much pain as I AM!"

"F-Flik…don't do this…please…"

"For all those people you betrayed…for the Liberation Army, for Odessa, I SWEAR I'LL AVENGE THEM! I'LL KILL YOU!"

"_I want to live in a city where everybody is equal no matter what skin or gender they are."_

"_He just – needs to be taught what's right and what's wrong. It's all he's known his whole life."_

His barrel shook – no, he was going to kill him…he was going to shoot him in the throat right now -

"_And I could never ask for anything more but your kindness, dear Flik."_

But he couldn't.

He dropped the pistol, the weapon falling to the ground like a useless toy. And he cried. He cried and cried, all anger disappearing into sorrow. His legs gave up on him and he let himself fall to the ground, pounding his fist against the cement with his broken yells. _Make the pain stop, make it all stop!_ Flik howled and hoped if he screamed loud enough that maybe somebody would think he was some loose wolf and shoot him right in the heart. He'd die right here in the alley and it didn't matter because he'd still be by her side.

All he wanted was to be by her side.

* * *

Flik woke up in a bed.

He reached out to kiss Odessa but realized that it was only him in the bed. He was in a different room – a hotel it seemed like, with an unfamiliar view of a different city. Everything came back to him in cold waves – Liberation Army under attack, the alley, Sanchez, her dead body. It almost made him break into a fit of sobs again but he couldn't find himself to even let out a tear. He supposed even if your own body gets tired of sadness.

Viktor came walking into the room with a water bottle in hand. He looked much better than he had when Flik had seen him – you could hardly tell that he's been in an accident. His face lit up when he saw Flik.

"You're awake! You had me worried – I thought you died on me!"

"Where are we? Is this New York?" Flik asked. The water bottle realized that he was very thirsty and Viktor passed him the drink. He chugged it down swiftly before placing it on the bedside table.

Viktor shook his head. "Dunno. The Liberation Army is gone now that Odessa…well – anyway, Barbarossa is now trying to track down the remaining survivors, especially us. You were passed out for days – I managed to take us out of the city, it'll be a long while till we're back in New York City again." It seemed like he was finish before he added quickly, "Oh yeah and Humphrey is okay too, in case you were wondering."

He wasn't, but he was glad that their friend was okay. At least not all was lost. Flik's gaze went to the blanket. So, that was it huh? Everything was just gone like that. "It's okay. I don't want to go back there anyway."

His friend nodded.

They sat in silence. Flik tried to think of what had happened – everything was painfully horrible last time he was conscious and now he had time to actually reflect on what has happened. Why didn't he kill Sanchez? Why didn't Odessa fight back? Has he disappointed her? Was he not good enough for her?

"The gun – Odessa, she had my gun." Flik suddenly said, sitting up straight. Viktor stared at him curiously. "The gun with my name on it – to protect her, w-why didn't she use it?"

Viktor sighed. "Odessa was never going to use that gun, Flik."

"But why?!" He exclaimed. "It could've saved her – she could've been here right now-"

"Odessa was a woman. She was a leader of a rebellion, but she was also a woman. She didn't believe she had the right to use a weapon because of her gender." Viktor said.

"Odessa wanted rights for everybody! A woman has a right to use a weapon as much as a man!"

"She knew that." The man said. "I don't know – Odessa, she was always so torn between being the daughter that her family wanted and being the leader of the Liberation Army. She never drank or smoked; even if all the other women did. It was just – against who she was to use that."

"That was why she loved you so much. You never saw her as a leader or a rich daughter. You saw her as Odessa." Viktor explained. "You seemed to always know who she was even if she didn't. She's grateful for you for that."

"Of course I did." Flik mumbled. "You don't forget the first woman you've ever loved."

She was the most beautiful person on the planet in his eyes. She could've had it all if she wanted to, and fought for what was right. Odessa didn't abuse her power like Flik had seen with other leaders – she truly knew what it meant to inspire the people. Including himself. Even if she left the world so soon, she's already made such a huge impact. Even if he wouldn't be in as much pain if they'd never met at all – Flik would never regret meeting Odessa.

Viktor smiled. "Good. Never forget her. Never forget who she was as a person and how much she wanted to change the world for the better. Odessa would want you to carry the legacy, to teach people what she taught you. Memories are a gift so treasure them forever. As long as you keep her in your heart – she's never really gone."

"Us." Flik corrected. "I'd be nothing without you."

His gaze softened. "Yeah. Us."

He'd never able to kiss her in the daylight anymore or run his hands through her hair or apologize for disappointing her – but as long as equality and justice is here, she's alive. The thought of Odessa forever watching over him made his heart feel lighter like a beautiful sun in the sky – where it belonged.

Flik glanced out the window.

"Beautiful day, yeah? Never seen such clear skies before," Viktor commented.

Things were going to be okay.


End file.
